


Thrall

by Little_Inkstone



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7813465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Inkstone/pseuds/Little_Inkstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her 21ist birthday Belle, Princess of the Frontlands, is sent away on a trial that for three hundred years has proven if a royal heir is worthy of succession.  The trial?  To train and control her family's greatest weapon, the Dark One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When the Duke of the Frontlands lost control over the Dark One he was furious.  Anger was a poor word to describe the depths of his rage. Not only had he lost the dagger, but his castle had also been burnt to the ground.  The Ogre Wars had been ended by the new Dark One and the money the war had been bringing in was cut off.  The Duke had lost almost everything, but he was a smart man, if not a bit reckless.  And he had trapped the Dark One once.

In the ruins of his old life he vowed to regain the power he had lost.

He bided his time and watched carefully as the former spinner, now the great and mighty Rumplestiltskin, and his ragamuffin of a son squandered the power that had been handed to them.  He knew through his spies that the boy was disturbed and alarmed by his father’s new found magic, so he waited.

Finally when the time was right, and the Dark One was about to follow his son down a magic portal provided by the Blue Fairy, he struck.

He went down in history as the Beast Tamer, controller of the evilest fiend in all the realms.  Before when Zoso had been under his control he guarded his secret carefully.  With Rumplestiltskin he made it clear that the Dark One was nothing more than his obedient pet.  With his monster held in complete thrall he soon ruthlessly declared himself King.  Although the history books would say the people cried out for his coronation.  Of course history was easily rewritten.  He then began ruling the lands with an iron fist, basking in his regained glory.

The dagger was passed down from parent to child for many years, and somewhere along the way a tradition formed, a rite of passage.  The heir to the throne on the day of their majority, 20 for princes, 21 for princesses; would take the dagger in hand and live with the beast for six months in his lair.  To practice bending him to their will so that they would be ready to fulfill their destiny and claim their parents crown when the time came.

For centuries Rumplestiltskin lived this way, and although his will was not completely his own, it did not keep him from planning.  A plan to reunite with his lost son, a plan to take revenge upon the lineage that had kept him from journeying with his boy to the land without magic.  A Plan to create a powerful and dark curse crafted in secret and soon to be unleashed by a heartbroken, carefully manipulated, Queen.

0o0o0

The day Princess Belle of the Frontlands turned 21 she was miserable.  She knew what was to be expected from her.  It was not the knowledge of leaving her home land for six months, _that_ prospect actually excited her. No, it wasn’t the rite of passage she would soon be taking part in; it was what waited for her when she returned.

Before the ball to celebrate her birthday had begun, her Father, the king, had marched into her room just as she was finished being dressed in soft yellow silk and declared that she was to be married on her return.  Completely stunned she was hustled out of her room by her proud Papa into a chamber not too far away to meet her new betrothed.

Gaston was tall, dark and handsome; and Belle was sure she had met rocks with more intelligence and personality.  Not one to judge a book by its cover, she felt bad for her immediate impression and was sure it had more to do with being forced to marry then her actual husband-to-be. She promised herself that she would try to spend every moment she had before leaving to get to know the man her fiancé was.

Her original assessment quickly proved correct.

As the nights festivities came to a close she was summoned to the grand balcony overlooking the large ballroom.  And with a lot of undue pomp and circumstance, her Father handed over the fairy enchanted box that held the Dark One’s dagger.  The chest was be-spelled so that only one of her blood line could open it.

With trembling figures she lifted the latch and opened the case.  As expected inside lay the jagged knife that gave her family all of its power.  The long and strange name inscribed upon it gave her pause as she took her first look at the cursed blade.  Her Papa had never allowed her to see it until now, and although she knew the Dark One’s name, her exposer to him had been as little as possible.  She had never personally seen him, tonight when she summoned him for her guest to prove her worth as ruler, would be the first.

It was the sound of her Father clearing his throat that brought her back to reality as she reached out to hold the bewitched dagger.  She raised it up for all of her guests to see as she called out his name.

“Rumplestiltskin, I summon thee!”

There was pregnant pause as everyone held their breath.  No one dared to speak as silence descended upon the overcrowded ballroom. And just when Belle was certain something had gone horribly, terribly wrong he appeared in a cloud of dark crimson smoke.  The ballroom erupted into loud cheers at the appearance of the most powerful creature in all the lands beside her.

“You called, your Majesty?”  The imp asked bowing low after the smoke had cleared.

She cleared her throat and licked her lips nervously.  “Yes, in accordance with tradition I have summoned you on my first and twentieth name day so that you may swear fealty to me; so that I might journey to your lair so as to tame you to my will.”

“As it has been, as it shall be.”  He replied softly, keeping his eyes firmly trained on the ground.

Belatedly Belle realized that he had done this far more times then she cared to imagine. How annoying it must be to have to drop everything you were doing and invite a total stranger into your home every time a young ruler-to-be turned of age.  It was an odd little thought and one she didn’t care to dwell on.

“Rise beast and look upon the face of your new master.”  She said loudly.  The crowd went wild as he submitted to her command.

The whole thing was a mockery, she knew he had no choice but to obey and she was merely speaking the traditional lines expected of her, and everyone in the ballroom knew it too.  Half of them were probably too drunk to even understand what she was saying anyway. She thought uncharitably with a slight scowl casting her gaze out at her guests.  All of this made her feel a little skin inside.

“Does my appearance revile you so; that you cannot even look at me for ceremony?”  He asked still speaking softly.

“No, I was just− was just thinking.”  Belle said with a faint blush, turning to face her new servant; of course at the end of six months he’d be her Father’s slave once more until she became ruler.

She studied him carefully; his skin was a motley gray-gold-green colour, his eyes large and fathomless.  He smiled at her, if one could label such a grimace that, his teeth yellowed and, from appearances, rotting.  But his hair was clean if not a bit messy, her fingers itching oddly to run through his curls.

Her Papa cleared his throat again and tried to nudge her inconspicuously.

Remembering her next line she took a deep breath.  “Now is the hour of my departure!  Take me to the Dark Castle!”

“As you wish.” He said grasping her arm lightly. Belle expected the cloud that enveloped them to choke her but she was pleasantly surprised to find it smelt sweet and spicy with only a hint of the acidic tang of smoke.  When it cleared they had appeared in the foyer of a large castle with no truly distinctive features.

“Welcome your highness, to my home, the Dark Castle.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rumplestiltskin eyed the princess wearily as she delicately placed his blade in the fairy box.  She closed the lid and whispered a magic word into the lock to make the whole thing disappear.  Often times when the reality of the ceremony finally hit he was left tending to the every wish and command of a tearful spoiled palace brat.  The girl had yet to crack, although he was sure she was still just in shock.

She looked around curiously and began meandering towards his dining hall where all of his greatest treasures were stored for display.  He followed after her, reluctant to let the silent beauty out of his sight.  Who knew what she could break if left alone?

When she made her way into his dining hall he expected the same reaction from her as all the other royal terrors he had been forced to entertain over the long years. Most ran around and touched _everything_.  Princes were usually drawn to the sword, feeling the need to swing it about clumsily; and princesses to the Golden Fleece, often wrapping themselves in it.

It was a miracle and sheer forethought that kept his possessions just that, his.  Even under the sway of the dagger he had managed to make it so only a certain wording would allow him to release one of his precious objects if demanded.  Warily he watched as the Princess wandered around the room keeping her hands firmly clasped behind her back.  Carefully she studied his priceless artefacts, a look of wonderment on her face.  He stiffened when she reached out for the sword he had on display, but relaxed when she pulled back before she could pick it up.

Finally when her examination was done she turned to him.  “I’m feeling quite tired, could you show me to my room, please?”  She asked softly.  Rumplestiltskin gritted his teeth in annoyance and nodded.  Now he would never be able to deny her anything she asked for.  And not just because of his accursed dagger either.

She knew how to use common courtesy and in turn knew his magic word.  A word he had specifically enchanted for himself to keep his things safe.  Centuries of spoiled rulers more akin to children then monarchs, and one finally knew how to ask instead of demand.  He’d be missing a fleece at the end of six months, of that he was sure.

0o0o0

Belle wasn’t exactly sure what she should be doing with her time while staying in the Dark Castle. After sorting through the things that had been magically transported in her trunk, she was dismayed to find that most of the books she had packed were missing.  They had been replaced with large frilly dresses more befitting a ballroom then taming a beast.  It wasn’t really surprising.  Her Papa had said he didn’t want her taking any books at all.  The fact that three of her favorites had made it simply meant that her old nanny had helped pack her trunk.

She sighed and sat on the edge of the large and exquisite bed where she would be sleeping for the next six months.  Looking around her room she admired the plush and expensive rugs lining the floor, the intricate tapestries designed to keep the chill out in the winter, and the beautiful mahogany furniture.  It was a room truly befitting royalty.

She hated it.

It wasn’t that she was home sick, not at all really.  The problem was that this was to be her only taste of freedom, before returning to a dull life of duty and inconsequentiality.  She wanted to see the world, have an adventure, be a hero!  But none of that was to happen now, after this trial run at commanding unspeakable power she would return home, to a man she didn’t know and a life she didn’t want.

If Belle had been given to melodramatics, like some of the more tragic heroines she read about, she might have just thrown herself off the tallest of towers.  But that seemed a bit extreme and she had no desire to end her life.  As her mother had always said; _do the brave thing, and bravery will follow_.  So she would be brave and accept her fate.

Shaking away her heavy thoughts she attempted to prepare herself for bed; and quickly found that the task was physically impossible.  It had taken two maids to help dress her in the golden monstrosity of a gown, and probably would take two more to get it undone.  Belle worried her bottom lip and wondered what to do.

She couldn’t very well sleep in the damnable thing.  It was hard enough to breathe in it as she was, never mind lying down under the thick quilt and furs meant for blocking out the bitter cold.

But what was she to do?

Now that the trial had started she wasn’t allowed to have any contact with her kingdom until the end.  If she did, it was only to declare herself unfit to rule.  She was not about to give up her birth right on the first day because of a _dress_.  The absurdity of the situation was not lost on her and she laughed to herself more out of frustration then actually finding anything funny.

Thinking hard her eyes wandered to the enchanted box holding the dagger that inconspicuously rested upon her vanity, strangely devoid of a mirror.  It was not as if Rumplestiltskin was a man, right?  And she was here to train him, was she not?  Surely this must be one of the things he had done for her ancestors previously?  After all, her fashion was rather less complicated than in years gone by.

Deciding that she had nothing to lose she cleared her throat.  “Rumplestiltskin, if you please, I am in need of your assistance.”

He appeared suddenly beside her, before she had even finished speaking, making her startle.

“And what, at this hour might my lady be in need of?  A glass of warm milk, a midnight snack?  Perhaps a nightcap?”  He asked with a flourished and almost mocking bow.

“No, thank you. I, um… I need help with my dress.” She said bashfully looking away. The Dark One might not be a man, but he definitely looked like one.

“Y−your dress?” He sputtered.

She cleared her throat again.  “Yes, I can’t get it undone myself, could you magic it off?  Or possibly just untie some of the knots?”

“I can change you right into your night gown if that is what you wish.”  He said averting his eyes.

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”  She said relief coloring her tone.  He snapped his figures and the pleasant smelling smoke engulfed her once more. She felt the pressure around her ribs release and soft cotton caress her skin, when the cloud finally cleared she was ready for bed, her hair even unfastened and brushed.

“If that will be all…?”  He asked uncertainly, neither of them making eye contact.

“Yes, thank you Rumplestiltskin.  Have a good night.”  Belle said preparing to get under the covers.

“You’re welcome, my princess.”  He said with another bow, and then was gone in his own cloud of smoke.


	3. Chapter 3

_What was wrong with that girl?!_ Rumplestiltskin asked himself appearing before his spinning wheel in the dining hall.  Didn’t she know who he was?  The feared Dark One reduced to playing valet!  But of course, she was just like all of her ancestors come before her, that family did so love to humiliate him.

Adding salt to the wound, insult to injury.  It wasn’t enough that he was forced to surrender his own room whenever one of them showed up?  He now had to play nursemaid too?  Why was he even surprised?  He had come to expect such humiliation’s at their hands.

Everyone from the house of Frontland was the same, selfish and cruel.  This new princess would be like all the others that had come before her.  He hated them, every single one of them.  What sweet pleasure it would be to reclaim his dagger and use it to slowly peel back the flesh of the girl sleeping upstairs.  Her father too, all arrogance and physical strength.  So much like the original Duke.

It was their fault Bae was gone.  They were the reason he hadn’t been able to follow him through the bean portal!  The reason he had spent centuries alone, preforming the whims of every spoiled royal idiot!  In his rage he felt like breaking something, instead he turned to his spinning wheel.  Trying to block out the old command from decades ago that would banish him to his own dungeon whenever Frontlander royalty was in the castle.

He spun to forget, he spun to plan.

What felt like only minutes, but was most probably hours, later the irksome and unavoidable call from his dagger tingled down his spine.  He tried to fight it, for as long as possible, especially when being summoned to the coming of age parties.  His record had been a half a minute; he’d broken it yesterday by two extra seconds. If nothing else he could be pleased with that.

But the princess was calling, and he could deny the wielder of his cursed blade almost nothing. So he flashed to her side, once again in his own bed chamber.

“Shall I dress you for the day, my princess?”  He asked, having trouble keeping the venom out of his voice as he bowed.

“I am sorry about that, and no.  I was wondering if you could change the style of a dress for me?  I don’t want to have to bother you every time I change.”  She said fiddling with her hair, not making eye contact.

_Was she blushing?_ He wondered, watching her.  No one of her line had ever acted like this with him before.  She was certainly very odd.  Her demeanor pushed his dark musings to the back of his mind while he thought over her request.

He could do what she asked, but why tell her?  It wasn’t an order, or a demand.  He could say it was impossible and she’d never know he had been lying.  But what would be the point of that?  He really had no wish to dress her every day, twice a day, possibly more if she was one of _those_ princesses.  It would become tedious quickly, it was already tedious.

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Would you? Please?”  She asked clearly relieved.  It was so strange not having to do as she said.  He wondered briefly if she realized she wasn’t ordering him around, or if it never occurred to her that she was only making requests so far.

“As you request.” He said trying to hint that she had yet to order him around properly.  It would be so much easier to properly resent her along with the rest of her family if she just acted a bit more like them.

“Wonderful, I was thinking you could change the blue one.  I have no need for ball gowns at the moment.”  She said with a smile.  She was _smiling_ , at him; why was she smiling at him?

“Only the one?” He asked warily.

“I don’t really want to trouble you too much.  I imagine my being here is a great inconvenience.”  She said simply.

Didn’t want to trouble him?  A great inconvenience?   _Did she not grasp the power she had over him?!_ He stared at her for a moment, truly shocked for the first time in ages.  Rumplestiltskin looked at her as if she’d grown a second head, her actions baffling him.

“Well?  Are you going to do it or not?”  She asked, her impatience making its way into her voice.

_Ah!  There’s the spoiled princess, so the world isn’t crashing down around us_. He thought maliciously.  “Of course, my princess.”  His bow was lower than strictly necessary with just a hint of mocking in his voice.  With a wave of his hand the sky blue gown she had pointed out was transformed into something she could easily manage on her own.

“Wonderful, Rumplestiltskin, when will breakfast be served?”  She asked straightening up to her full, if still mediocre, height.

“Whenever you command it, my princess.”  He said rising from his bow.

“I shall be down shortly.  Have tea waiting for me as well.”  She said with a dismissive wave, still seated in _his_ bed.

“As you wish.” He said disappearing.  He knew it; they were all alike, every single last one of them.  This new princess would be no different.  The notion was almost a comfort.

0o0o0

Belle slumped down with a sigh.  It felt wrong to order Rumplestiltskin around.  Perhaps because she knew what it was like to have no choice, to have no say.  It could be maddening.  His knife gave her absolute power over him, but she didn’t want it.  Then he had looked at her, the same way her father looked at her, the way the nobles of court looked at her, when she wasn’t acting like she should, wasn’t playing her role.

The role of a perfect princess.

She had lost her temper and ordered him around like a common slave, as if he were lower than the muck on her boots.  That had been the way she had been raised to think of him, as nothing but a pet, a toy, a pawn.  It was disgusting.  She had only met him just yesterday, hadn’t even had a proper conversation with him yet, but already she knew he was far more than that.  But what was she to do?  There were certain things to be expected of her.  Maybe she should just start acting like the princess she was born to be.  It wasn’t as if he anticipated anything different from her.  It would be easy to order him around, he had to obey her every command.

Those thoughts followed her to the breakfast table, her mind clouded with indecision.

The knowledge of the power she had was heady; and for a moment she could hear something dark at the back of her mind whispering that she could use and abuse it any way she wished.  It could even be hers if she simply took the blade and plunged it−

“No!”  She wasn’t aware she had spoken out loud until she heard Rumplestiltskin’s manic giggle.

“I’m sorry if the eggs have offended you, my princess.  Is there something else you would prefer for breakfast?”  He asked standing beside her, reaching for the plate he had just placed in front of her.

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant.  Sorry, this is perfectly alright.”  She mumbled blushing.  Now he would probably think her mad like her great-great−however many great’s−grandfather had been rumoured to be.

He nodded and then made as if to leave the room.  “If you need anything, just call for me.”

“Where are you going?”  Belle asked.

“To the kitchens for my own breakfast, even beasts need to eat you know.”

“You won’t be dining with me?”  She said confused.

“Do you make it a habit of dining with your servants?”  He countered.

“This is your home, I am a guest.  I’d hate to turn you away from your own table.”  She replied.

“You can stop being polite to me, princess.  You don’t have to cajole me into anything.  My will is yours, to do with which you wish.”

She harrumphed in annoyance.  “Fine, I command that you dine with me.”

He looked at her the way he had before but she didn’t back down or snap and eventually he nodded. Waving his hand he conjured an extra setting and chair at the opposite end of the large table.  He sat down and then, as if something had just occurred to him, he looked mournfully at his full plate.

Ignoring him for a moment Belle returned to her own meal, only pausing when she realized he wasn’t eating.   _Was he trying to be difficult_ , Belle wondered.

“Why aren’t you eating?”  She asked wearily.

“I’m not allowed to.”  He murmured softly, so quietly that she had to strain to hear him over the large distance between them.

“What?  Why not?”  Belle questioned her head tilted to the side.

“There are many compulsions from your ancestors I am forced to follow while you’re in the castle. This is only one of them.”  He muttered glaring at his plate.  “I am not allowed to eat in your presence.”

As he spoke ice filled her veins, it had never occurred to her that there might be commands he would have to work through while she was staying in the Dark Castle. Although thinking back it was ridiculous she hadn’t thought of it, her father had alluded to such things before.

“I release you of this horrible command.”  Belle said promptly.  “A−are there many other compulsions?”  She added quietly, sorrow filling her.

“More so than even I can remember.”  He scoffed. “Why?”

“I wish to know them.”  Rumple eyed her bleakly but saw no reason not tell her.

“I must sleep in the dungeon while Frontland royalty lives in my castle!”  He said theatrically twirling his wrist ostentatiously. “How was your sleep, is my room comfortable?”


	4. Chapter 4

He enjoyed the soft gasp when he revealed her living arraignments to her.  She looked shocked, unsettled even.  It was understandable, sleeping in the bed of a beast, even if said beast was safely locked away in the dungeons, could be unnerving.

Over the years every member of her family had seen fit to humiliate him in some way, simply to prove their power over him.  It was an unspoken tradition they had.  He briefly wondered what command she would leave branded into his soul for the rest of eternity, or until the Dark Curse was cast anyway.

“You’ve been forced to sleep in the dungeons?”  She asked.

_That_ was what she was worried about?  This was an odd one to be sure.  Maybe her father hadn’t told her about what she was supposed to be doing while staying in his castle.  She was after all far too polite as it was.

“That command is decades old, my princess.  Giving up my own bedroom is a little more recent.  Your great grandfather I believe.”  Every single one felt the need to ‘conquer’ the beast in some way.  It was almost pitifully laughable, as if he could ever disobey one of them.  It would be funny if it wasn’t he who had to pay.

“That’s terrible.” She muttered shaking her head. She looked up at him swiftly.  “I release you of these commands.  I will be changing rooms.”  Belle declared.

Rumplestiltskin looked on at the odd princess momentarily shocked once more.  She was giving him back his room?  Even though he didn’t truly believe her he still felt the previous compulsions untangle themselves from his soul, like ropes falling physically away from him.

“T−thank you?” He said, still stunned.

“What other cruel restrictions have been forced upon you?”  She demanded.

And so they spent breakfast, their food completely forgotten, going over the centuries of commands her ancestors had forced upon him.  Each one he told her of she would dismiss immediately.  By the end Rumplestiltskin felt incredibly light, much of the tension he had been carrying gone.  He hadn’t realized before the weight that had burdened him for so long.  He felt renewed, more agile, and a horrible fog that had clouded the corners of his mind was all but lifted now.

She would be a good Queen he realized, fare and just to all.  He would not mind serving her he supposed, better a kind and intelligent slaver then a mean and stupid one.

“Is that all of them?”  She asked, breaking him from his stupor.

“Yes, I’m sure that’s all of them, my princess.  And if not, you’ll be the first to know.”  He said with one of his callused grins to hide his amazement.

“I’m glad, but it seems our breakfast has gone cold.”  She laughed.

He nodded again, still dazed.  “Indeed, I believe I can rectify that.”  With a snap of his fingers steam began rising from their forgotten food.

“Thank you, Rumplestiltskin.”  She said with a smile.

“No matter.” He giggled, hiding his astonishment. Frontlander’s were cruel, but perhaps this one would be less so.

For the first two weeks Belle might as well not have even been in the Dark Castle at all for the amount of impact she had on his life.  He had to conjure an additional portion for every meal and magic her clothes clean, he had also simplified more dresses for her, but other than that it was as if she wasn’t really there at all.

He was restored to his own bedroom, and was even given free rein to continue making his deals. The young princess demanded nothing from him, and in turn he was more mystified by her.  She spent the first little while exploring his castle, with his permission of all things, but eventually he could feel boredom rolling off of her like a physical force.

When he had offered to entertain her, he was almost ashamed to admit, it had been a test to see if she was as unpleasant as her great-great-great grandmother.  A woman who had loved to make him dance about in funny clothes and act like a tumbling fool.

Her response had not been what he expected.

“You don’t have to entertain me, but I would love a book.  I’ve managed to read through the ones I brought with me several times already. And although they’re my favorites I’d like a new one.”

“Of course, my princess.”  He said without missing a beat.  “And what kind would you like?”

“I love adventures, but anything will do.  Suspense, mystery, romance, drama, any genre really.”  She replied with smile.

“Aren’t suspense and mystery the same thing?”  Rumplestiltskin had asked.  He wasn’t one to read for pleasure; even with all the time in the world he had never found a point to it when he could be working towards finding his son.

“Oh no, not at all.” And then her eyes had lit up as she began explaining the difference between the two.  He became so enraptured by her enthusiasm he forgot his plan to simple give her one book, since it had been all she asked for, and had shown her to his large and extensive library.  It was worth it to see the bright look of joy in her eyes and to feel the warmth of her sudden excited embrace.

With every other prince and princess he had played a game, to see how far he could construe a command before they would notice.  It was an almost impossible game to play with her.  If she did ask for something it was virtually always phrased as a request; not a command that he could twist until it barely resembled its original form. But what made it truly impossible to play his game was the fact that she now spent more time in the library than anywhere else.

He had never been more drawn to that room in all of his long years.  Over meals, and tea taken in said library, she often discussed what she was reading in great detail.  Impassioned about certain heroic acts and lamenting situations where it was the protagonists own fault for their troubles.

Rumplestiltskin soon found himself covertly creating replicas of the books she was reading so he too could take part in the joy and anguish she felt while immersed in the story.

It was a month and a half after she had first came to the Dark Castle when he found himself drinking tea simply watching her read when an idea struck him.

“Princess?”

“Yes, Rumple?” She asked using the nickname she had bestowed upon him, one of the few things she hadn’t asked permission if it was alright to do so first, he didn’t mind at all.

“Have you ever wished to live the adventures you read about?”  He probed.

“Every single day.” She said wistfully.  “I’ve always wanted to see the world.”

“How would you feel about accompanying me on a deal?”  He asked quickly before his doubts and insecurities could get the best of him.

“A−a deal? Like outside of the castle?”  She questioned, looking up from her book with a bright smile.

“Where else do deals take place?”  Rumplestiltskin giggled.

“Is that even allowed?  Won’t I get in trouble if I leave the castle?”  The princess said her spirits falling as uncertainty replaced her hopefulness.

He watched her bit her lip insecurely and fidget unconsciously.  “Not at all, my princess.  As I have always understood it you are free to come and go as you please, you’re simply not allowed to go home for another five months.”

“Oh who cares anyway?  It’s not as if anyone could find out, even if it wasn’t allowed!”  She cried happily, jumping up.  “When do you want to leave?”

“Soon would be best.”  He said smiling indulgently as the princess practically vibrated with anticipation.

Rumplestiltskin wasn’t sure what to expect when he brought the girl along with him to make a simple deal with a fisherman on the North Coast.  He had never brought anyone with him before, and certainly not an heir to the Frontland’s throne; but she behaved herself and didn’t attempt to interfere with the transaction.  In fact the fisherman didn’t even notice that there was someone else with him, too terrified by the mighty Dark One.

Mostly she busied herself with exploring the surrounding area.  He watched her as she studied a tidal pool so absorbed that she didn’t realize that his business had concluded an hour ago.

He smiled to himself watching her, and then shook his head violently.   _What was wrong with him?_  Had he forgotten who she was?  What her family had done to him?  A couple of kind words and interesting conversations did not heal centuries of abuse and mistreatment.  And the greatest sin of all, it was _her_ family’s fault that he had lost Baelfire!

Sneering he turned away from her, reminding himself that she had yet to show her true colours. It might take some time, but he knew eventually she’d give in and act like the rest of the spoiled villains her line was composed of.  There wasn’t a shred of honor among them.

She was simply his latest master.  Already he had seen she had a domineering side to her.  The way she had ordered him around that first morning before breakfast. Not as forceful as some, but it was there, and she would learn.  They all managed to eventually.


	5. Chapter 5

Belle wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong, but after they had returned to the castle Rumplestiltskin had asked to be dismissed, which she granted, and then had stormed off to his tower.  It was one of the few places in the castle she hadn’t explored, and knew she would probably never see.  She respected his privacy far too much.

When he didn’t talk to her all through supper that evening and then breakfast the next day her anxiety continued to mount.  She replayed the whole adventure, if examining a tidal pool and trying to skip rocks could be called that, over and over to see if she could discover what had gone wrong.

Things had seemed to be going so well.  She might have even said that they were becoming friends.  Rumplestiltskin was polite, intelligent, and always treated her like a gentlemen.  Nothing like how her Papa had warned her he might act.  He had cautioned her that the Dark One was a savage that needed to be put in his place.  Honestly the description didn’t fit Rumplestiltskin at all.  Belle had been surprised at first by how human he had looked, and acted. Now she only saw him as the man she knew he was, and a handsome man at that.

Another thing that had surprised her had been the cruelty of her ancestors.  It was completely unnecessary to treat Rumple the way they did.  All of the commands and how demeaning most of them were left her disenchanted and disgusted with her ‘proud’ and ‘noble’ house.

How could anyone treat him that way?

Papa had said he was no better than an animal, a beast to do her family’s bidding. Getting to know him she now knew that was completely wrong.  There was a gentle and kind-hearted person buried under the layers he shrouded himself in; most likely for protection from the cruelty of her family.

She felt sick thinking about how he had been mistreated; and then it clicked.  Of course he didn’t want to talk to her.  He probably couldn’t stand the sight of her. She was just a reminder of every other noble that had come before her.

When she had been freeing him of all of her family’s compulsions he had mentioned it was like an unspoken tradition to leave him worse off than before.  How could he know that she wasn’t like that?  He had no reason to trust that she would never harm him. Belle had never been one for senseless violence, as a small child she had often rescued injured animals, or saved bugs and spiders from being stepped on.  It was another reason people found her odd.  Maybe she was.  But if her strangeness allowed her to see the man that Rumplestiltskin was inside and be the first to treat him as such, she was neither ashamed nor apologetic for it.

There had to be something she could do for him, some way to try and heal the damage her family had done.  Obviously one small gesture wouldn’t be enough, but it would be a start.  All she needed to do was find something for a man that seemed to have everything.  Something that would show, even if he didn’t believe it, that she would never dream of hurting him.

0o0o0

It was suspicious how quiet his ‘guest’ was being of late.  For the first month Rumplestiltskin hadn’t been able to get her to do anything but try and talk to him; not, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, that he minded as much as he should have.  Now a fortnight after their excursion to the North Coast the Dark Castle was almost as silent as a tomb.

What a terribly lovely picture _that_ made.

Often times he had dreamed of slowly maiming, or killing an heir of the Duke; or fearing that one of them would snap and take his power and, by extension, his life.  Turning him home into a crypt.  But oddly with Belle he did not fear that she would choose to end him for the Dark One’s power.  Odder still despite how hard he tried he could not conjure images of using scourges to flay her delicate skin.  That didn’t mean he wasn’t still wary of the girl.  She was unpredictable, _and_ her most damning sin; she was a direct descendant of the Duke.

She had stopped spending as much time in the library.  Not to say she didn’t continue to read just as much as before; but instead she now read in front of the fire in his spinning room.

He would sit, attempting to spin straw to gold, but her silent presence was possibly far more distracting then she had ever been before discussing books over tea and meals. Now he had no idea what she was thinking, or was up to.  At any moment she might spring a horrible command or long lasting compulsion on him. It was unnerving and made him feel jumpy.

Belle had probably realized what a horrible monster he truly was, and simply no longer wished to attempt polite conversation with him.  Certainly _he_ wasn’t about to seek _her_ out.

So when he found himself doing just that he was both annoyed and vigilant.  He had run out of two herbs he desperately required for a potion he was working on and needed to collect more.  Usually he would just slip away, but he was too afraid to find out what his new mistress might do if she found out.  Especially since they hadn’t been on the friendliest of terms recently; which, he begrudgingly admitted, was his own fault to begin with.

“My princess?” He began cautiously, interrupting her reading.

“Yes, Rumplestiltskin?”  She asked marking her spot and looking up at him.  He didn’t pause to analyze why her not using his nickname bothered him.

“I have run out of ingredients from my stores.  Could I have your leave to gather more?”

“Of course.” She said promptly with a smile. “You never have to ask permission to leave, Rumple.”  Then she looked away and bit her lip uncertainly, obviously wishing to say more.

“Is there anything you need, my princess?”  He asked hesitantly hoping her good will hadn’t come to an end.

“Can I come with you?”  She blurted out.

“Wha−what?”  He asked surprised by her request.

“If you don’t want me to I completely understand.”  She added quickly.  “I just… I’d like to get out of the castle for a bit.  It’s been snowing heavily for a week and I can’t walk through the gardens anymore.”  She explained.

“You may accompany me, if that is what you wish.”  He said rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

If she wanted to go out why hadn’t she just commanded him to take her somewhere?  Or get him to thaw out the gardens?  He was disquieted to realize that she hadn’t commanded anything of him since that first morning so long ago.  Was it was possible he’d been wrong about her?  Was possible she wasn’t going to hurt him at all?  He dared not give into the foolish hope.

“Wonderful! I’ll grab my cloak and then we can leave as soon as you want.”  She said jumping up excitedly, just like with the first outing.

0o0o0

The field where Rumplestiltskin collected all of his herbs was thousands of miles away from the Dark Castle, but with magic they appeared there in a matter of seconds. It was a secret place, nestled between two mountain ranges and always warm.  Many a rare vegetal could be found in the large field and even more common plants and flowers.

It was incredibly beautiful.  Belle was almost inclined to believe it was enchanted.  How else could this place be warm even in the middle of winter?  There truly seemed to be no limit to Rumplestiltskin’s power.

While the Dark One busied himself collecting the plants he needed, Belle wandered around gathering some of the flowers she recognized and attempting to create a chain from them.  Despite it being years since she had last made one, her floral garland turned out better than expected, but still not as well as it could have looked.  Making her feel mildly foolish once she was done.

So much for grand adventures, so far she had managed to catalogue the inhabitants of a northern tidal pool, and make a flower wreath.  Not exactly the most exciting of past times.  But she knew both memories would be near and dear to her heart once she returned home.  At least if nothing else she had seen more of the world then she had hoped.

“What have you got there, my princess?”  Rumplestiltskin asked casually, holding a simple basket filled with plants.

“Oh, uh, this?” She said feeling even sillier then before being caught making flower arrangements like a child.  “It’s a daisy chain, although I didn’t actually use any daisies in it.”  She said holding it up for his inspection.

“It’s very lovely.” He complimented before sitting down beside her.  “But it would look less lopsided if you did it this way.”  He said fiddling with her creation.

She smiled watching the mighty Dark One rework the flowers into a more presentable circle then she could have managed.  Regardless of his strange exterior there was a heart of gold hidden deep inside of him.

“There, perfect.” He said placing the crown of flowers atop her head, one of his hands lingered, wrapping a curl of her hair around his finger to play with.

“Thank you, Rumple.” She whispered giving him a shy smile, her cheeks heating.

He cleared his throat and stood up quickly.  “No matter.”

The hand that had been touching her hair began its strange spinning and rubbing motion as he fidgeted.  Belle stood as well happiness filling her now that they were finally communicating again. Daringly she looped her arm through his, breaking him from his thoughts; she liked the feel of his warmth beside her, his arm thin but radiating strength.

“Walk with me?” Belle requested sweetly.  He gave her a small crooked smile and nodded.

They spent another hour or so walking around the field arm in arm and chatting; he explain certain plants and there properties to her as she listened enthralled.  The strange tension that had been thick between them had all but evaporated.  Rumplestiltskin seemed calmer and more relaxed.  For her part Belle could forget she was a princess and that her family owned a magic dagger, they were just two people taking a stroll, instead of mistress and servant.

Returning to the Dark Castle shattered the illusion, and she was reminded all too clearly of her status.  The way he treated her returned to formality immediately, and it depressed her how their ease of conversation and comradely was gone.

Thankfully he did not return to ignoring her, and they soon began talking again over meals and tea.  Now it wasn’t just about the books she was reading.  She started telling stories from her childhood, and Rumplestiltskin spoke of humours deals, or exotic place he had seen during his travels.  Slowly the formality faded almost all together. And over the ensuing months as he took her on more deals as they shared more of their pasts with each other. Belle could fool herself into forgetting how much he must hate her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a longer chapter this time, there was no good way to break it up.

It was impossible to think of Belle as a part of the same family that had tortured him all these long centuries.  She was so compassionate and respectful.  He kept waiting, waiting for the cruelty to show through, waiting for the arrogance.  When it never came he began waiting for something else, waiting for her to realize he was a monster.  That he was the beast her father must have warned her about to make sure she behaved as a child.

Rumplestiltskin knew very well what he was, he had no delusions about what he was capable of, or the darkness that twisted his mind and soul.  He had done terrible things while under the sway of his dagger, but not just that.  He had also done horrible things when he had been in control.

It was why Baelfire, his brave boy, had bagged and pleaded with him to leave this land, to journey to a place without magic.  He would have gone with him too, if not for the Duke.

As was usual, when he would think of that time rage would swell inside of him, so uncontrollable he wished to break and smash things until the world was as broken and smashed as he felt.  Before it would take all of his willpower not to attack the Frontlander living in his castle, but Belle was special.

The thought of her being harmed, especially by his own hands, left him feeling sick.  She was different, she was better than the rest of her family.  She treated him like a human; she talked and laughed with him like they were equals.  And he wished she would stop.  He wanted to hate her; life would be so much simpler if she was as boorish as the rest, if he could simply resent her.  He tried.  He really did, but all of his efforts were simply undermined by a happy smile or a kind word.

Belle was so much better than them; she didn’t belong in the same category as the rest of her family.  Her actions alone proved that to be all too true.  She was too good, too kind to a monster like him.  She never demanded anything of him, and gave him free rein over his castle and life.  She kept his blade locked up tight in the fairy box.  Never using it, and never drawing on its magic.  Even so, every day he fell further under her thrall.

He continued to take her on deals and to visit the valley where his herbs grew, enjoying the way her eyes would light up when he invited her along.  It was on one such occasion when he entered the library to ask if she wished to see Agrabah’s famous market.  Only to find her teetering at the very top of a tall ladder propped against one of the bookshelves.

“What are you doing?”  He asked confused, the Dark castle was enchanted, if there was a book she couldn’t reach she had to merely call out its title and it would fly to her.

“Trying to open these, it’s almost spring time; we should let some light in.”  At her words he realized she hadn’t been reaching for a book, but was grasping and tugging at the nearby curtains.  She gave another violent tug and then sighed in exasperation. “What did you do?  Nail them down?”

“Yeah.”  He answered simply.   _Of course,_ he thought.   _What else does one do with curtains in a place called the ‘Dark Castle’?_  He refrained from saying as much out loud.

Still, she shook her head and smiled as if he had spoken his thought allowed and yanked once more at the heavy fabric.  This time her balance was lost and the drape gave way under her weight, causing both princess and curtain to plunge to the ground.

Quickly he stepped forward to catch her before she could hit the marble floor.  For a moment time seemed to slow to a stop as she rested in his arms.  The light from outside was blinding, and she was warm and soft in his embrace. Everything felt right in that instant as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Thank you.” Belle whispered breathlessly.  At her words time resumed its normal pace and he dropped her hurriedly on unsteady feet, keeping his arm around her for stabilization.  “Thank you.” She said again louder, but still breathless.

“No matter.” He replied, surprised by how steady his voice was, backing away from her.

“I’ll, ah; I’ll put your curtains back up.”  She said with a bashful smile, a pretty blush beginning to stain her cheeks.

He nodded, turned to walk away and then stopped.  “There’s no need, I’ll get used to it.”

She gave him another shy smile and he walked away confused, his thoughts swirling.  It has been centuries since he touched anyone with less than malicious intentions behind the gesture.  Belle hadn’t flinched away at his touch or shudder at his claws.

His Belle was such an odd little creature, doing things for herself instead of demanding he take care of it.  If she wished the draperies down all she had to do was tell him so.  With that thought in mind, he twirled his wrist and all of the curtains in the castle opened, lest his princess fall when he wasn’t there to catch her.

0o0o0

Agrabah was stifling; Belle had never experienced such heat before.

After she had fallen from the ladder, Rumplestiltskin had sheepishly returned from wandering off in a daze and asked if she wanted to accompany him to the famous market.  Her answer had been a resounding yes.  Now she was rethinking whether it was such a good idea.  She felt sticky with sweat and horribly uncomfortable.  Her dress clung to her legs and the loose bodice she had become accustomed to instead of her tight corsets felt far too constricting.  For his part Rumplestiltskin looked entirely too comfortable in his leather and dragon hide coat, in Belle’s opinion.

“Are you very uncomfortable, my princess?”  He asked while they were still climbing through the dunes outside of the major city.

The people of Agrabah were suspicious of magic and magician’s so appearing in a puff of smoke in the middle of a busy market place was out of the question.  The walk wasn’t very long, but the sun and the sand were working together to make Belle feel as if she were wilting.

“Maybe a little.” She smiled apologetically while swiping sweat from her brow.

“I could… help you with that.”  He said cautiously.

“How?”  She asked intrigued.  Why had none of her books ever mentioned how uncomfortable an adventure could be?  Even aided by magic?

“The styles of outfits are different in these lands for woman then in your country.  Just as I magiked your ball gown into the style you’re wearing, I can change it into something more comfortable for this climate.” He replied pensively.

“That would be wonderful!”  Belle said enthusiastically.

He nodded and stepped back to look over her carefully, silently he asked her to spin around by twirling one of his fingers.  She did so while he hummed softly concentrating on her dress.

“Alright, got it.” He said motioning for her to stop. Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and the cloud of magic Belle had become accustomed to engulfed her.

Silk wrapped around her body, hugging her in an intimate, almost sensual way.  She felt the flesh of her abdomen; from just below her ribs to right above her hips, bared.  And what had once been a skirt enfolded her legs in loose trousers made of many layers of thin gossamer.

Belle looked down at herself in embarrassment.  She had never shown so much skin outside of her private chambers, and never had a man seen so much of her.  It was a beautiful outfit and felt wonderful in the heat but she couldn’t help but feel a little immodest.

“You could have warned me first.”  She finally choked out.  He smirked, one of his characteristic giggles bursting free as well as.

“Where would the fun in that be?”  His hands fluttered with unused energy.

“I can’t walk into town like this, it’s indecent.  My underclothes cover more skin!”  Belle countered.

“This is the style here, your dressed like the sultans own daughter.”  He replied devilishly.

“Be that as it may, my sensibilities are far different from the people of this land. Surely there is some style that I would be more comfortable in?”  She pleaded.

“Oh most definitely, but gods strike me down if I know what it might be.”  He said shrugging nonchalantly.

She was about to return his casual remark with a scathing retort when she caught the twinkle in his eye he couldn’t quite hide.  “You’re teasing me!”  She accused a smile tugging at the corner of her own mouth.

“Perhaps.”  He said simply, allowing his smirk to change into a proper smile.

“Oh very amusing Rumple, now you’ve had your fun, please change me into something appropriate?” Belle asked.

“I’m not being cruel, that really is how the sultan’s daughter dresses.  It’s a symbol of your status.  But, I don’t wish for you to be uncomfortable; I can give you a silk wrapper if that will make you feel better?”  He said sincerely.

“That would be much appreciated.”  She replied with a relieved smile.

With a flick of his wrist he was holding a square of sky blue silk embroidered with his gold thread, in a simple but beautiful design.  Rumplestiltskin draped the conjured cloth around her and she instantly felt less exposed.

“I suggest also covering your head with that, it’s the fashion.  Protect you from the sun as well.”  He added; his eyes slightly heavy-lidded as he gave her one last look over.  She nodded and did as he suggested with a small smile.  “There.”  Rumple murmured, smoothing out the silk before blinking and swiftly averting his gaze.

As they continued their walk Belle took a moment to take stock of Rumplestiltskin’s handy work. The outfit was exquisite, made of fine and comfortable material.  Her shirt, belt and cuffs were all made of a blue silk to match the cover he had summoned, but the pants and sleeves were made of fine gossamer, like nothing she had ever seen.

The upper half of the ensemble was off her shoulders, as her gold ball gown had been. The sleeves, thinner than her pants and wispy, were the color of distant clouds on a clear day.  The lower half was much the same material wise.  But her dignity was preserved by how many layers were compounded upon one another, allowing nothing to be seen through the gauzy fabric.

Once they had passed through the city gates all thought of her clothes were quickly driven from Belle’s mind.  The market was like nothing she had ever seen previously.

There was a market in Avonlea, the capital city of the Frontlands, but it was nothing like what she saw before her.  Colours, the smell of spices and music assaulted all of her sense.  And if not for the slight pressure of Rumplestiltskin’s hand upon her back she very well could have stopped at every stall.  The wares being sold varied from vender to vender so greatly there seemed to be no rhyme, nor reason to how the sellers were arranged.  It was a little over whelming.

“What do you think, Belle, is Agrabah everything you’d hoped?”  He asked as they moved through the crowd.

“More so.” She answered in awe, trying to look at everything at once.  “Where are we going?”  Belle asked pulling her attention away from the bright displays as they passed through another busy street without pausing.

“There are deals to be made everywhere.”  He shrugged. “But in this case I’m fetching an item I’m in need of for my own uses.”  Rumple supplied noticing her frown at his vague answer.

Before she could respond they stopped in front of a proper shop instead of a stall like the others had been.  She squinted up at the sign as Rumplestiltskin fought a smirk.

“You’re in need of a new book?”  She asked turning towards him in confusion, and then smiled at his dumbfounded expression.

“You can read that?” He asked pointing to the marks on the wood hanging above to door.

“Not as well as I’d like, but yes, I can.”  She said shrugging nonchalantly, trying to hide how pleased she was.  “Most people in court think it’s pointless to learn the languages of countries so far away we’ll never trade with them directly. But I think that’s foolish and a little ignorant.”  Then Belle smiled a secret little smile.  “Besides, some of the best stories, I find, are in other dialects.”

“Very true, indeed and wise as well, my princess.”  He replied collecting himself.  “Shall we?” He asked motioning for her to walk ahead of him.

Moving past the burlap cloth that served as a door Belle found herself surrounded by shelves of old tomes, and piles of scrolls.  The smell of paper and ink permeated the air making her feel instantly at home and almost masked the scents from the spice shop nearby.

“Hello and welcome!” A portly man with a thick black mustache greeted then as Rumplestiltskin entered after her.

Rumple nodded in a silent greeting.  “Do you have it?”

“Yes, Dark One, of course.”  He said his smiling never wavering before he scurried away.

Belle was taken aback by how unafraid the salesman, seemed.  Until he returned with a large package wrapped in plain brown paper and Rumplestiltskin handed over a two thick spools of gold.  The promise of gold, it seemed, could overcome fear even better than courage; not that she blamed him, the amount of gold her companion handed over had just made the shop owner a very rich man indeed.

“Will that be all? Or perhaps I can interest your desert blossom in something?”  Belle snatched her hand back from the book she had been about to take down and examine as he spoke.

“Oh, no, I have nothing to pay wi−”  She began before being cut off.

“Worry not, my princess, as your faithful servant I’ll pay for anything you may need.”

“Rumple I can’t ask that of you.”  Belle said shaking her head.

“It is of little importance, pick something, my princess.”  He responded waving her away.  “Think of it as a gift.”  He said when it became clear she was about to protest further.

Belle bit her lip and then nodded looking at all of the books piled around her.  “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He said with an encouraging smile.

The scroll she picked wasn’t a story, or historical text, but a tool used to teach older children how to read and write more complex words.  It seemed the most useful, and less expensive than anything else that caught her eye.

She felt embarrassed allowing Rumplestiltskin to pay for the scroll.  Often times on their excursions she liked to pretend that they were equals.  Even if the illusion was shattered every time he called her ‘princess’ instead of just her name.

He called everyone by their given name, or more often than not ‘dearie’, his little pet name for everyone, everyone _but_ her. She alone received any kind of real formalities.  Others were often mocked, even the few other royals she had witnessed making deals were given no true respect.  Rumplestiltskin had set her apart from everyone else, and the distinction stung. She knew it was futile, but she wished they could simply be friends, or maybe even more, without any titles getting in the way.  She thought about it the entire rest of the day and it nagged at her no matter how hard she tried to get it off her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Rumplestiltskin counted the day a success.  He had finally gotten a hold of the books he needed for memory retention.  It would do no good to travel to a whole other world and have no way of remembering once the Savior made an appearance.  His plans would fall apart if he couldn’t help the whelp destined to save them all.

One thing about the day weighed on him however.  Belle had been quiet and contemplative almost the entire time.  She had seemed so excited, and then once he had offered to get her something she had retreated into her own thoughts.  He wondered briefly if he might have offended her in some way, but he couldn’t think of anything that might have caused the rift.

After they shared a silent supper in the great hall she moved to her designated chair and he made his way to the door that would take him to his tower.

“Stay?”  She asked.

They’d taken to sitting together after supper either talking or simply sitting in companionable silence while she read and he spun.  He was pleased that whatever mood had taken hold of her hadn’t ruined their evenings, but he was unsettled by the contemplative and faraway look in her eyes. Belle would be leaving tomorrow, one of the of the reasons he’d wished to show her Agrabah that day, but now a poisonous little voice whispered in his ear that she was going to shackle him the way all those that had come before her had.

“Of course, my princess.”  Rumplestiltskin said cautiously with a bow.

“You don’t have to call me that.”  She practically snapped.

He rose from his bow sharply, his thumb and forefinger rubbing together nervously.   _Was that what had her out of sorts all day?_  He thought to himself.   _What he called her?_

“And what would you have me call you, _your_ _majesty_?”

“I have a name; call me _Belle_ , or dearie!  Just not that!”  He felt the command wrap around his throat, a grasping squeezing hand. Rumplestiltskin wondered if she realized she had imparted a long lasting compulsion upon him.  Choking the title of princess from his mind, leaving it a vague memory, something to tickle the tip of his tongue, but never spoken again.

“Belle, dearie?” He questioned calmly, drawing in on himself so as not to show her the emotional turmoil within.

“Yes, I’m no better then you.  I want to be your friend.  You shouldn’t have to speak to me as if I’m somehow superior.”  Belle said sadness lacing her tone.

He scoffed at her words.  Not better than him?  When with one poorly strung together sentence she had permanently removed a word from his vocabulary?  The idea was laughable.

“You hold the dagger, as your line has since the original Duke.  You are better than me _Belle_. You hold me in thrall, my will is not my own, it’s yours.  I am yours to do with as you please.  Whether you admit it to yourself or not this is the way it is.”  He snarled before storming from the room, barely catching her faintly whispered words as he left.

“It shouldn’t be.”

_But it was_.  He thought venomously.

He had let his guard down.  She had wormed her way past the defences he erected in the presence of Frontlanders.  Gods!  She had bypassed most of the suspicions he kept in place when in the presence of anyone!  She had made him think she was _different_ , and just when he was at his most vulnerable she struck.

Truly it shouldn’t be a surprise.  That was the way of her family; it was the way the Duke had gained his dagger.  Why was he even shocked?  Why did it sting?  Why did it hurt so much to be proven right?

Instead of ending up in his tower like he intended, Rumplestiltskin found himself in the library.  Magic crackled off of him like static in his rage. With one thought, less than the flick of a finger, he could ignite the whole room.  Destroy the place that _Belle_ enjoyed so much.  Burn all of the books she took pleasure in while staying with him.  He could rend the room to nothing.

Deflating he stilled his hand; it would be pointless, even in his anger he knew it would be cutting off his own noes rather than doing any damage to her. Most of his magical tomes were stored in the library.  No need to burn centuries of knowledge simply because a bookworm princ− _girl_ had angered him.  And why should she even affect him in such a way?  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known what to expect.

She was like all the others, the thought should be comforting.  His view of the world was right and justified.  For a while it had seemed like she would challenge his opinions, but no.  She was just like all the others.  Thoughtless, cruel, and selfish.

Except when she wasn’t being any of those things, sometimes, _most_ of the time, she was wise, and kind, and giving.

Rumplestiltskin cursed loudly resting against the mantle of the library’s large fireplace. He was a fool.  Even when he was furious and betrayed he couldn’t properly hate her.  That alone should make him hate her all the more, but he couldn’t.  Some strange emotion was holding him back from hardening his heart against her.  She had slowly thawed him, and now he couldn’t drown the emotions in ice or fire no matter how hard he tried.

If he was not the most powerful sorcerer in all the lands he would suspect her of some kind of witchcraft.  But it was not magic that kept him from being consumed by the old familiar hatred towards the Frontlanders.  It was something different, something he hadn’t felt in centuries, something he had possibly never felt before.

He was tentative to give the emotion a name, for what did he know of feelings?  Only the knowledge gained from bottling them, he was sure.  But even that pale comparison was enough to know he counted her a friend.  It was friendship, and so much more, but he dared not think of that.

The prospect seemed ludicrous.

No one would wish for his friendship or affection; but Belle had said she wished for it.  He had been too wrapped up in thoughts of cruel families and magic daggers to register that she was reaching out to him. Now he had run away just like he always did, coward that he was.  Perhaps she hadn’t meant to unleash a compulsion upon him, not when she was usually so very careful of her wording.

She’d been careless and he’d taken it as a betrayal.

“Rumple?”  A small voice whispered from the doorway.  As if his thoughts had drawn her to him she was there.

“Yes, Belle?” He whispered, the hurt in his chest still raw.  He wanted to call her by her name, but he wanted it to be his choice.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.”  Belle apologized walking further into the room.

“It’s not… your _friendship_ that distresses me.”  He said hesitantly.

“What’s wrong?”

“A compulsion.” He said simply.  He was testing her again, much to his chagrin, to see if she had done it purposely, or if it truly was a simple slip.

“What?  I thought I had banished all of them, whose is it?”  She asked sounding outraged.

“ _Yours_.”

The word hanging between them like a knife ready to fall.

She gasped softly and flinched away as if he had struck her.  “H−how?  I haven’t… oh!  Oh no, no, _no_.”  She stuttered horrified.  “I release you Rumplestiltskin.  I’m so, so sorry.”

He chanced a look at her and caught the dismay in her eyes, tears brimming, before she turned away and fled from the room.

“Princess, wait! _Belle_!”  He called after her, but she was already gone.

0o0o0

All Belle wanted was to be closer to Rumple, but he had been right.  They weren’t equals, and never could be because of his stupid dagger.

The shame of accidentally shackling him with a compulsion weighed on her mind as she raced from the library.  She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes before resolutely blinking them away. She had no reason to cry, she wasn’t the one kept as a slave by a magical knife.

The day had started so wonderfully.  He had saved her from falling and breaking her neck, and then he had shown her another amazing place.  Why did she have to ruin it?  Her trial was over on the morrow, she did not wish to leave him like the rest of her family had, but in the end she proved no better than the rest.  Her thoughtlessness had led to a compulsion, and even though she had reversed it as soon as she had discovered her mistake there was no taking back the damage that had been done.

Belle sat down heavily at her vanity, like Rumplestiltskin’s it too was mysteriously devoid of a mirror, but she paid that no mind.  The fairy box was resting inconspicuously in front of her.  The object within gave her family untold power, and not for the first time since she had come to the Dark Castle, Belle wished it away.  If only her ancestor, the Duke, hadn’t found it. If only he had stayed a Duke instead of capitulating to the voices of the people that bagged for him to become king. If only she hadn’t come from a long line of monsters.

There was nothing she could do about the past, but the future was hers to shape.

She stared at the box willing a solution to come to her.


	8. Chapter 8

Rumplestiltskin found Belle the next day slumped over the vanity table resting on her arms fast asleep.  He had been reluctant to approach her the previous night after she had fled his presence. If he was being honest with himself, which he wasn’t, he would admit it was because he was afraid.  Now he had no choice but to go to her, they were on a tight schedule.

It was the last day of her trial, before noon he would be at the beck and call of her father once more.  He did not relish the thought, not only would he be forced to submit to the will of the current king once more, but he would no longer be able to see Belle regularly. Even if that wasn’t the case the curse was going to happen sooner than he had anticipated even with his ability of prophecy.  And even if it weren’t for that her father keeping him far away from Belle, afraid his influence or presence would somehow corrupt her, he doubted she’d want to see him again.

He was roused from his musings by a slight hitch in her breathing and a shifting in her position, but the princess did not wake.

“Princess, Belle, it’s time for you to wake up.”  He whispered tentatively brushing her shoulder.

He hoped she wouldn’t be mad that he had entered her room or dared to touch her.  But he needed to wake her and have her dressed in the golden gown she had first journeyed in before breakfast.  Her father would be expecting them soon.

She hummed in confusion, stirring from her sleep.  “What?”

“The trial, my princess, it’s over.  Time for you to go home.”  Rumplestiltskin said gently.

“Oh!”  She said sitting bolt upright.  “I’ve got to change, and get packed!”  Belle yelped, looking at him sleepiness and panic warring in her eyes.

“Hush, no worries, my princess, magic will take care of all your troubles.”  With those words he snapped his fingers and the princess, as well as her trunk and her items scattered about the room were covered in a thick layer of smoke.

It could have been six months ago for how similar everything looked.  Belle was clothed and styled exactly as she had been before and the room held no trace of her except for the now full trunk and fairy box in front of her.

She rose from her seat and rearranged her skirt nervously.  “Thank you, Rumplestiltskin.”  She said gratefully and as regally as the queen she should have someday been, but the curse would mean it was not to be.

“It is an honour and a pleasure, my princess.”  He said bowing low, as before, but this time the gesture held no mockery.

“Please wait for me in the foyer; I will be down shortly to depart.”  Belle said not making eye contact.  A heaviness weighing on her shoulders and an ache in her heart.

“Of course.”  He bowed again and left the room.

The indifferent way she spoke to him hurt him more than he had thought.  It was possibly the last time he would ever see her again.  For surely once the curse hit she would be relegated to some minor position.  After it was broken there was no chance she would wish to associate with the monster that had taken her and everyone she knew away from her throne and homeland.

He examined the entrance hall of his castle and wondered what Belle was thinking, what she was doing.  Of late his mind had been far too preoccupied with his princess.  It couldn’t possibly be healthy.  He heard a door open and then the princess in question cleared her throat.  He turned to look at her as she descended the stairs holding his dagger.  It was out of the annoying fairy charmed box that kept it safely out of his clutches.

“Over these long months I’ve discovered that it’s tradition to leave you with a parting compulsion.”  She said shakily, licking her lips.

“Indeed.”  He replied cautiously.  Had they become so close and traveled so much of the world together, only for her to yield to an unwritten tradition and leave him as her ancestors had before?

He was resigned to the notion; she had to do what was expected of her.  Even if she did leave him with a compulsion the way she had acted last night was proof enough that she was as unwilling as him.  He would not hate her for following tradition. Honestly he was sure it would be impossible for him to ever hate her.

Belle moved closer to him and took a deep breath.  “Hold out your hands.”  She commanded.  He did so willingly, more confused than before.  “I free you, Rumplestiltskin.”  Belle said her voice ringing through the hall as she placed the dagger in his grasp.

“Wha−what?” He asked.  To shocked by her actions to form a proper thought, let alone sentence.

“I should have done it sooner, but I’m ashamed to say it never occurred to me before.  Even after I found out what my family had done to you I was too busy trying to live up to my Papa’s expectations to see what needed to be done.  I’m sorry…” She babbled.

Rumplestiltskin only heard a fraction of what she had said to him.  He was too absorbed in examining the blade in his hand to hear her. It had been three hundred years since he had last held it, since he had last been the master of his own will. Blinking a few times he turned it around in his hands; savouring the feel of not having another’s wishes imposed upon him.

“…I only ask that my blood be enough to satisfy your revenge, and if not, please spare the common people, they are innocent in all of this.”

The talk of spilling her blood had him concentrating on what she was saying to him.

His movements were slow, almost lazy as he closed the gap between them and traced the tip of his blade along the curve of her jaw.  Enough to rasp against her skin but not enough to leave a mark.  His free hand came up to cup her cheek.

“Oh no, my Belle.” He murmured darkly.  “I’d never dream of harming you.”

Her eyes made contact with his and held as she exhaled softly.  “What are you going to do with me?”  She whispered back.

He leaned forward slightly and was gratified when she tilted her head up and her eye lids fluttered closed.  Then he stepped back.

“Why, take you home of course!”  Rumplestiltskin exclaimed with an exaggerated and grand gesture.

0o0o0

King Maurice, ruler of the Frontlands, paced the length of his study waiting for his daughter to appear.  It had been the required six months and, as per custom, Belle would first come to him, at which time he would represent her to court as his one true heir.

As he paced he wondered how his Belle had done.  She was too kind for her own kind good.  She probably hadn’t taught the beast his place.  He’d have to do some retraining of his own most likely.

The sickly smell of magic filled the chamber, turning he saw his slave and daughter appear from a cloud of purple smoke.

“Hello Papa.” Belle said smiling.

“Hello darling. How was your trial?”  Maurice asked embracing his little girl.  “Hope you’re ready to give back the dagger.” He chortled.

“Well, about that Papa, I have something to tell you.”  His daughter said pulling away.

“What is it?” Maurice asked confused.

He watched his little girl bite her lip uncertainly.  “I can’t give you back Rumplestiltskin’s dagger.”

Maurice frowned. “Now that isn’t funny, Belle. Give me the dagger.”  He said sternly, speaking to her as only a parent could speak to a child.

“I can’t.” She said stubbornly, her spine straightening.

“Do you mean to keep it?  Steal my crown before my time?”  The king demanded.

“No!”  Belle denied.  “That’s not it Papa.  I can’t give you back the dagger because I don’t have it anymore!”

“What?  What do you mean?  Where is it?”  He seethed thinking of what he would do to the person that would dare take the dagger from his family.

“Why, it’s with me!” Rumplestiltskin giggled, finally speaking.

The king turned to gape in horror, looking at the gleeful imp.  “ _You_ have it?”

“I can explain Papa…”  Belle began.

“How did he get it from you?”  He asked dazedly looking between the two.

“Rumple didn’t take it from me Papa, I−I gave it to him.”

“You gave it to him! Why in all of the Enchanted Forest would you do something so stupid?”  He raged.

“Because he’s my friend!”   She yelled back.  “I care for him, deeply, and even if I didn’t it’s _wrong_ to keep him enslaved!”

Her father looked at her in silent disgust.  He was her friend?  Had she lost her mind?  How could she befriend such a beast?

“What are you saying?”  He whispered.

“She’s saying that she’s my _friend_.”  Rumplestiltskin preened, the suggestion in his voice making it clear that he had done more then become friends with his innocent little girl.

“You!” Maurice said turning on the imp in the room.  “This is your fault.  You’ve bewitched her!  Somehow, someway!”  He accused.

“No, Papa! It’s not like that!”  Belle pleaded.

“You have clearly been possessed by this demon!  What has he done to you?  What has he made you do with him?”

“Nothing she didn’t want.”  The fiend said provocatively, wrapping an arm around Belle.

To Maurice’s continued horror instead of pulling away from the embrace Belle seemed to subconsciously lean into the beasts hold.  The terrible creature began playing with the princess’ curls.  The sign of affection and familiarity between the two made the king queasy.

“Have you given yourself to this beast then?”  He choked out.  She blushed and refused to make eye contact, but at least she pulled away from the monster holding her.

“Papa, please… it’s not like that.”  She whispered weakly, her face heating further.

“Go to your chambers Belle.”  He said finally.

“Papa…”

“ _Leave_!”  He demanded pointing to the door.  For a moment it looked like she was about to argue, but a quick glance at the imp had her nodding and leaving without another word.  Maurice hadn’t missed the minor incline of Rumplestiltskin’s head when his daughter had looked at him.

“So, your majesty, what can I do for you?”  The beast asked meandering over to Maurice’s chair and making himself comfortable.

“What did you do to her?”  He demanded quietly.

“Absolutely nothing. The Princess did not lie, she has befriended me.”  He said with a theatrical yet lazy twirl of his wrist.

“You don’t expect me to believe that tripe!”  The king growled.

“What you choose to believe is up to you.  Now, if that will be all…?”  Without another word he disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Maurice slumped down into the chair that had just been evacuated.  There would be much change in the days to come.  He would have to be delicate in sharing this new development with his people.  The past six months had been terrible.  Almost as soon as Belle had left the ogres had attacked.  Now more than ever was the power of the dagger needed.  And his silly, kind-hearted, daughter had given it away.


	9. Chapter 9

Four months. It had been four whole months since Belle had last seen him.

The fallout from her giving away the dagger had been over shadowed by the war that had begun while she had been away.  It never occurred to her to regret giving up the power even with a war threatening her people; not when its price was the enslavement of Rumplestiltskin.  But she did wish that there was something she could do to save them all as well as wishing that he’d at least come to visit her.

The little treasures from all of her adventures were a small comfort.  A smooth rock from the Northern Coast, pressed flowers from his secret meadow, the scroll for learning more of the Agrabahian language, and many other little things kept her from missing him too much.  But try as she might to forget him, his absence still stung.

If she had been the first to treat him with kindness, then he had been the first to truly listen while she spoke.  No one else in court really heard her, and her betrothed were just as deaf as the rest of the nobles.  The war had pushed back her marriage to Gaston, but soon he would return from the front lines and claim her as his bride.  The thought made her feel cold and empty.  She held no affection for the man her father had chosen for her, not when she pined for the love and strange giggle of another man.

Why was it she longed for Rumplestiltskin in the dead of night?  When everyone else was abed and the distant sounds of war were far too close for comfort, her mind couldn’t help but turn to thoughts of him. Belle wished he was there to tell her everything would be alright, even if it was a lie.  She missed him dreadfully.  Of course she couldn’t share her loneliness with anyone in the castle. Not unless she wished to be visited by the clerics with their holy artifacts and sacred water.  Most would think she was under the sway of some dark curse.

It wasn’t true. Rumplestiltskin had been a perfect gentleman, and had only used his magic for her convenience.  He certainly hadn’t cast a spell on her, why would he? When he simply intended to leave her with her father without so much as a proper goodbye?

Even when she had been away from everyone she loved and cared for she hadn’t been this lonely. There had simply been no time to miss anyone; she had been too preoccupied seeing the world.  And befriending a man most would call a beast.

She was broken from her thoughts by her long-time maid bursting into the room.

“Ah!  There you are princess, still abed I see.  Well we can’t have that, now can we?  Not with your fiancé just returned and your father wanting you in the war room.”  The girl said cheerfully.

“Gaston has returned?”  Belle asked shifting from her place in bed to look at the other woman.

“Yes indeed. Now then, we need you to be looking your best, there’s an important guest coming, gossip says he can end the war.” She whispered loudly.  “What shall we dress you in?  The pink?  Maybe the puce?”

“Whatever you wish, I don’t particularly care.”  Belle muttered flopping back down onto the bed.

“Now don’t act like that princess.  Ah ha! Here, we’ll dress you in this; I haven’t seen you wear it since you came home!”  The buoyant woman said merrily.

Belle would have objected any other time to wearing the golden ball gown.  It only served to remind her of the friend she had lost.  It was one of the finer dresses in her wardrobe, but there were others that would do just as nicely.  Even so, having to face her fiancé and a new guest in the castle made her wish for a reminder of Rumplestiltskin, if only in some small way.

Dragging her feet as much as she could she was soon dressed in the finery befitting her station and forced to join her father and husband-to-be in the war room.

“Belle, glad you could join us.”  Her Papa said pleasantly when she walked in.

Even though he sounded cheerful, she could tell it was an act for the others in the room. He was tired and stressed, the stiff way he held his shoulders and the faint dark patches under his eyes were a dead giveaway.

After her return her father had been quick to forgive her, saying she was always too kind, and far too trusting.  He blamed Rumplestiltskin and said he must have enchanted her in some way, despite her denial of any such thing.  But the war was taking its toll on him, and even though she knew he didn’t blame her, she could tell he was still furious having lost the dagger.

No one else blamed her either, but that was because her father had told them Rumplestiltskin had forced her to hand the dagger over or he would torch all of Avonlea.  None but her Papa had heard her claiming to have befriended the imp.  At first she had considered rectifying his deception so that the people and nobles of court understood how wonderful Rumple really was but she had quickly dismissed the idea.  No one would believe her and instead of clearing Rumple’s name she might find herself dealing with a fanatical cleric instead.  Her father hadn’t made such a threat, but several of his councilmen had.

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting.”  She said demurely.

“Not at all, we were just hearing Gaston’s report.”  Her father replied.

“Princess Belle, it is an honor to see you once more.”  Gaston said stepping forward, bowling low over hand and brushing his lips lightly against her knuckles.

“A pleasure as always.”  She said with a slight nod of her head.  The polite lie tasted like ash on her tongue.  She felt nothing for the young man in front of her, neither attraction nor revulsion. He was simply another person, they could have been strangers for the amount of care she felt for him.  But he represented a future she didn’t want but would soon have so that made her heart burn when she saw him.

Once the pleasantries were out of the way the men returned to the map showing the lines and how close the invading army was.

Although Belle’s opinion was valued by her Papa it was not by his councilmen; she hadn’t realized how truly restricting court was until she had tasted freedom with Rumplestiltskin.  She felt stifled.  If not for the fact that she was the Princess, and someday Queen, she was sure she would be expected to act as empty headed as the rest of the woman usually did at court.

As it was, her natural tendencies were already muted, she was not one to sit in a corner and allow others to decide her fate.  Yet, as the men crowded around the map and she asked a servant to retrieve her mother’s favourite book for a small bit of comfort; that seemed exactly like what was going to happen.


	10. Chapter 10

He watched her.  How could he not?  They had spent six months together, and although in his long life time that was barely worth mentioning, he still held the memories of her kindness and companionship close.  But that had been while she had no choice; now that he had returned her to her people what use would she have of the yearnings of an old monster?  Now she could laugh and talk with any number of people, now she could smile at someone worthy of her attention.

Belle had said she wished to be his friend, but surely that had only meant during their time together.  Even so, he watched her, silently, charming himself invisible, so as not to be caught.  Rumplestiltskin should never again wish to venture to the Frontlands, but he found it was where he spent the majority of his free time.

She had enthralled him without the use of magic, without the use of his accursed blade.  He was drawn to her, but she seemed so melancholy, most assuredly due to the war raging through her lands, and not because she missed him.  Why would someone so good and full of light, that even centuries of prejudice hadn’t been able to spoil her, miss him?

Rumplestiltskin wished she would call for him.  She might not miss him, but he missed her.  Their time taking tea, discussing books and deals, seeing far off places together, all of them were precious memories.  He had been around for so long he had forgotten what it was like to witness a wonder for the first time.  Belle had reminded him of all the marvels the world held.

The six months they had spent together were a brief flicker of light in an ocean of darkness.

Now she was becoming a distraction.  His quest to find his son was coming together beautifully.  He thought it would take longer, being at the beck and call of a royal family for hundreds of years.  But, then again, three hundred years was a long time for mortals.  And Belle had freed him just in time to tie up all of the loose ends.  If only he could actually concentrate on said loose ends.

Somehow he needed to find a way to get her out of his mind.

Then King Maurice had given him his solution.

When all his attempts at ending the war failed he finally succumbed to the urging of his councilmen and called on his former slave.  Not in an attempt to recapture him, but instead to make a deal, like everyone else.

Rumplestiltskin saw it as the answer to all of his problems.  He obsessed over Belle because she was kind to him.  But if he replayed that kindness with cruelty, she would grow to hate him.  Once she hated him, he would be free to despise her in turn.  It still did not sit well with him that he could hold a Frontlander, and royalty at that, in such high regards.  Even if she had freed him she was a diversion he could not afford.

The solution was almost poetic; he would take Belle as his prisoner, a caretaker for his estate, and then simply act like a monster.  It wouldn’t be very difficult, he was one after all, but he would never harm her.  Only scare her a little bit, that should suffice.

With his plan in mind he slipped into the war room and watched as everyone present began to reek of desperation.

0o0o0

Belle had never expected to ever return to the Dark Castle, but there she was, standing in the grand hall everything the same as if she’d just left yesterday; but Belle didn’t care about the décor.  She cared about the man that had whisked her away.  As soon as the magic smoke dissipated she flung her arms around him holding him close.  He jerked back, clearly surprised, but he didn’t push her away and after only a moment of hesitation his arms came up around her in a gentle hug.

“I missed you, Rumple.”  She whispered against his chest.

“I− I missed you too, my Belle.”  He admitted, the confession ripped straight from his soul.

She felt herself smile at his words, feeling the truth of them.  Pulling back, but still holding him, Belle stared into his large fathomless eyes.  Being without him for so long had helped her come to an understanding.  She didn’t just feel friendly affection for the man standing before her; she _loved_ him, loved him with her whole heart and she was tired of letting others decide her fate for her.  She was going to take control of her own destiny, and she was going to start by telling him how she felt.

Licking her lips she gathered her courage.

“I love you.”

Her eyes widened and so did his as she registered what _he’d_ said.  Rumple had stolen the words right from her lips and said them instead, but she didn’t care.  The joy of knowing her feelings were returned thrilling her to her core.

“I love you too.”  Belle replied the words coming as easily as breathing.

Tipping herself up on the tips of her toes she brushed her lips against his, feeling a delicious spark pass between them.  Their first kiss was slow and heady, a mix of shy excitement and the realization of months of mutual pining.  Belle could have stayed like that forever, in her Rumple’s arms, tasting his lips but they pulled away, the kiss ending too soon.  She cupped his face when they were separated, brushing his hair from his eyes.  He looked dazed, the skin around his lips beginning to shimmer and change.

“What’s happening?”  Rumple muttered, his hands tightening their hold on her waist.

“Y-you’re changing.”  She said in surprise, watching his sparkling scales melt away to reveal pink human flesh, his eyes turning a beautiful shade of brown.

He blinked several times and shook his head, letting go of her.  “ _No_!”  Rumple growled jerking away, violently flexing his hands before him, the scales returning to hide his human skin.  He trembled before her, staring at his hands as if he’d never seen them before.

“Rumple, w-what just happened?”  Belle asked, worry lacing her tone.  Had her kiss made him sick?  Had they found love only for it to be impossible for them to show it?

Looking at her as if he’d forgotten she was there he closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath; his hands were clenched at his sides his teeth gritted.  “It’s nothing.”  He hissed, posture tense.

“It doesn’t _look_ like nothing.”  She said, taking a step towards him.  “What’s wrong?  Let me help you, please?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”  Rumple whispered hoarsely, his pinched features beginning to relax.

“Then, please, tell me what’s happening at least!”  Belle implored, resting her hand on his arm, hoping to sooth him.

He cringed but didn’t move away from her.  The forlorn look that he gave her broke her heart as he spoke.  “I have to tell you something, Belle, and at the end of my tale you might not feel as warmly towards me as you do now.”

She tilted her head to the side and bit her lower lip, but nodded in encouragement for him to continue.

The story he told her broke her heart.  Her eyes filled with tears as he spoke of his beloved son and how he’d lost him, of how it was _her_ family’s fault; of his quest to follow after him and of how the curse that had made him a slave was the only thing allowing him to continue his search.

A ball of ice sat in the pit of her stomach, making her feel chilled and disgusted with herself and her family.  She had discovered the depths of their depravity on her first day with Rumple, but to know that they had forced him to lose his son as well?  It was an unbearable thought.  How could Rumple look at her, let alone love her, when everything about her was a reminder of his lost son and the endless cruelty that had been heaped upon him over the years?

He’d told her that he loved her, and she believed him, he had seen past her family’s darkness and seen her for herself, she could do the same with his curse, nothing he had told her made her want to pull away from him.  Belle held his hand as he continued to tell her of all the things he’d done in the name of reuniting with Baelfire, of the darkness and tragedies.  When he was done and she thought her heart could bear no more he began to recount tales from before he was stained with darkness, when he’d been a simple spinner and he and his boy had been happy.  Belle held him to her as he spoke, brushing his tears away and soothing him as best she could.

Then, when all she wanted to do was kiss him and tell him that she’d be with him and help him find his boy, he told her something that filled her with joy and broke her heart all at once.  True Love’s Kiss could break any curse, including the curse of the Dark One.  But her beloved Rumple had to reject the salvation she offered him, or lose his chance of finding his son.  At this point in his story he stopped to look at her, his eyes shining with more tears, searching for understanding from her.

“This means its true love.”  Belle whispered with a sad smile, he nodded.  “I understand, Rumple, and I want to help you.”

“Oh, Belle.”  He murmured, gently cupping the side of her face.  “What I’m planning to do, it will be forever.”

She smiled at him; wishing she could kiss away his disbelief.  Instead she turned to nuzzle the hand holding her cheek.  “Then it’s forever.”

Even if she hadn’t loved him the way she did she would have helped him.  As it was her heart belonged to him totally and irrevocably and she would do anything to aid him and right the wrongs of her ancestors.

He looked at her with a mix of wonderment and apprehension.  “You’re so wonderful, Belle, I don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love.”  Rumple said breathlessly.

“My Rumple,”  Belle cooed, running her fingers through his hair again.  “You love so deeply and so completely, I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you; but love isn’t about deserving, is it?”  She said simply.  “It’s a mystery to be uncovered, it’s layered and complex and you never know what’s going to happen next, it’s the best kind of adventure; and you’re the only one that I want to go on it with.”

Rumplestiltskin gently grasped her hand hands, pressing a fervent kiss to each of them with a soft, endearing smile.  “Then let’s go on an adventure.”


End file.
